Nine in the Afternoon
by BittersweetSonata
Summary: "So you're going to make me pretty?" In which the girls are out to help Buttercup get over her breakup and make Mitch regret it, and to do it they're giving her a makeover. Only, there's one other person interested in her that they're not aware of. "No, Buttercup. We're simply going to bring out your inner beauty."—butch/buttercup


**notes: **i had a hard time choosing a title for this. and i also never thought i'd write a greens story first. hm. has this been done yet? i don't know. **  
disclaimer: **i think it's quite obvious that i don't own the powerpuff girls or anything associated with them, yet here we are. i'm still having to say it. **  
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**summary: **"So you're going to make me pretty." "No, Buttercup. We're simply going to bring out your inner beauty." In which the girls are out to make Mitch regret the breakup with Buttercup, and to do it they're giving her a makeover. Only, it turns out there's one other person interested in the Powerpuff. **  
pairings: **greens, reds, blues**  
chapter title: **Summertime Sadness, or Nice Try Sweetheart ****

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_{i used to be love drunk, but now i'm hung over}_

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**i. **

It was a beautiful Monday morning in Townsville—the sun was shining, the birds were singing, the last of the flowers were blooming, and one girl in particular was very happy.

Bubbles waved enthusiastically at the paper boy as he tossed the morning newspaper onto their front porch. "Good morning Tommy! Thank you for the paper!"

He returned the gesture and sent her a grin, then he peddled away, onto the next house on his route. The blonde sighed blissfully before stooping down to pick up the paper. Tucking it under her arm, she paused to smell roses before slipping back in the front door and into the house. Smiling and humming a peppy tune she'd heard on the radio earlier that morning, she headed into the kitchen.

Yes, Bubbles was usually a cheerful and happy girl; they didn't call her 'the joy and laughter' for nothing, after all. Even though she didn't wake up like some kind of princess or ethereal being—read also: Blossom—she still considered herself a morning person, for the most part. Once she was actually up and around, that is. But this morning, there was one thing throwing her off.

And it was currently slumped over the dining room table, head dangerously close to having a collision with the plate full of food next to it.

Bubbles' smile tightened, and she handed the paper to the Professor as she took her seat. He smiled back at her kindly, and nodded. "Thank you Bubbles," he paused, "for getting the paper and making this wonderful breakfast."

Three pairs of eyes scanned over the small mass of food placed around the table. Blossom blinked at the assortment of pancakes, eggs, sausages, sliced fruit, toast, and jams spread out before them. She turned to her youngest sister and smiled. "Um, yes. It's…quite impressive."

Bubbles beamed. "Well, I wanted this morning's breakfast to be special! It's our first day of junior year, after all, and I wanted to celebrate," she proclaimed. Then her expression soured just a bit as she eyed the fourth party at the table who hadn't said a word upon dragging herself down the stairs. "Because, I mean, it's not like this'll ever happen again."

It was silent. No sarcastic comments, no biting retorts, no 'unless you flunk and have to take the year over', nothing.

"It's truly a once and a lifetime experience," the blonde tried again.

They waited. The other girl did not respond.

Finally, Blossom snapped. "Buttercup, lift your head off the table. It's impolite and you're going to get blackberry jam in your hair."

Slowly, bright green eyes met impatient pink ones. The room remained in tense silence as the two sisters stared at each other while the Professor and Bubbles fidgeted. It was five more uncomfortable minutes of neither girl wavering before their father eventually cleared his throat.

"Well, uh, I think it's time that we start eating. Bubbles went through the trouble of preparing all this food, and you girls have to be off to school soon. So," he gestured to their plates, "time to chow down."

Blossom reached for a peach and decided to try and make some conversation to avert their attention from the noticeable lack of Buttercup's gusto. "So Bubbles, you're in in drama this year, correct?"

Her blonde sister smiled and nodded, thankful for the distraction. "Yeah! And I want to be in choir or chorale this year—maybe even cheerleading again. I haven't decided yet. I have to try out for both of those positions though."

"It can be a tough choice dear," the Professor put in, sipping on his coffee, "but I'm sure you'll do great at whichever one you end up picking."

Bubbles' smile widened and she placed an extra pancake on his plate. "Thanks Professor. You get extras."

They paused again, waiting—hoping—for some kind of protest from Buttercup about how she also wanted extra food, but none came. Bubbles' smile grew uncomfortable and Blossom's eye twitched. The Professor cleared his throat and turned to his oldest daughter.

"Are you still planning on being in dance this year, Blossom?"

The auburn-haired girl nodded. "Yes, I am."

Bubbles clapped, the awkwardness is the room forgotten for a moment as she thought about one of her sister's favorite pastimes. "Oh! Does that mean we get to come watch you perform again? I really enjoyed seeing your class' rendition of _Swan Lake _last winter. It was really cool how you incorporated other dances into it besides just the ballet parts. And of _course _it was fun to see you all dressed up as Odette! You looked so pretty and graceful up there on stage!"

Blossom smiled and the Professor chuckled at the younger girl's enthusiasm and sparkling eyes. "Thank you, Bubbles. I look forward to seeing you in the plays they have planned this year. And Buttercup's games, of course. What sports did you say you were trying out for again?"

All eyes were on the dark-haired girl, but she merely grunted and downed her glass of chocolate milk instead of answering. Thankfully, the meal was mostly over, and as soon as the dishes were taken care of and the rest of the food was put away, the girls had finished getting ready.

Bubbles grabbed her backpack and slipped it on before heading to the front door to wait for her sisters. She tapped her foot and sang quietly to herself for a few moments, before a commotion near the stairwell caught her attention. She turned to see Blossom holding onto Buttercup's ankles while the other girl was gripping tightly onto the doorframe.

The blonde opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. So she stood, gaping, as she observed her older sisters doing…whatever they were doing. Blossom made several attempts to pull her sister away, but Buttercup had always been just a bit stronger, so she was able to hold on. After a few more sporadic jerks, Blossom let out an irritated growl.

"You _can't _miss the first day of school, Buttercup! _I am not going to let you miss the first day of school_! You are going! That's final! Now _let go of the doorframe _so we can _leave_!"

Bubbles winced at the dark tone Blossom was using. Each of them had tempers, she knew. But Buttercup was angry half of the time anyway, so hers' wasn't that bad. When she got furious it was, but that happened only once in a blue moon, so Bubbles didn't really have to worry about it. And Blossom was patient, but her willingness to deal with what she called 'outrageous' or 'ridiculous behavior' only stretched so far. And apparently this morning, it had already snapped.

"I'M NOT GOING," Buttercup shouted back, and for a moment Blossom looked relieved to hear her sister finally speak. And then she didn't.

The redhead ground her teeth and pulled harder. "_Yes you are_," then, her tone softened. "Look Buttercup, I understand. I know you don't think so, but I do, okay? I know why you're refusing to go to school, and why you hardly left the house this summer. And I _get it. _You somehow managed to avoid seeing _him _for more than three months. You did it. By extensive avoidance tactics and thorough planning and you _did it. _I don't really know how, because—and I don't mean this in an offensive way—you don't _plan, _Buttercup. You just…do. You make rash decisions and you don't think before you jump."

Here, Blossom paused to take a deep breath. "You managed to swing not seeing him for the summer, but you can't just go around avoiding him _forever, _Buttercup. You have to face him one of these days. There will be a confrontation; it's bound to happen eventually. And even if you don't go to school and face him today, or tomorrow, or for a month, you'll run into him _somewhere—_the gas station, the movie theater, the skate park—and it will be awkward and weird and probably seven kinds of uncomfortable, yes."

She sighed. "But that's also kind of the point. You have to move on, Buttercup. You can't just keep running from your problems the rest of your life. The Buttercup I know—my sister—wouldn't do that. She'd face them straight on, no matter how awful they seemed."

The house was completely silent after Blossom's speech, and then Buttercup heaved a sigh. Her redheaded sister started in surprise when she let go of the doorframe and dropped to the ground. She cleared her throat and cast a side glance at them. "I'm going upstairs. To pack," she waited a few seconds, "because I'm moving to Antarctica."

But nevertheless, she was back downstairs in five minutes, green and black backpack slung over her shoulder and a determined look on her face.

"Isn't that a little light for Antarctica?" Bubbles questioned teasingly as they climbed into the car. "I mean, I realize that you like to pack light, but gosh Buttercup. What are you going to do with red pens and a binder down there? Shouldn't you be hauling your ski gear and like twenty blankets instead of toting your bag? I'm sure the Professor would take you to the airport after he drops us off at the school. Though, I doubt there'll be any flights departing for the South Pole today, you might just have to fly there yourself instead."

Her sister shot her a narrowed-eyed look, but the blonde just smiled innocently as the Professor and Blossom both let out a sigh of relief. The ride was mostly quiet, save for the sound of the morning talk show playing on the radio. When they pulled up in front of Pokey Oaks High, the Professor suddenly broke down.

"My girls," he cried, gripping the steering wheel as tears gathered in his eyes, "already starting their junior year of high school! It seems like just yesterday you three were five and playing dress up and sleeping with stuffed animals!"

"Bubbles still does that," Buttercup cut in, reverting back to her normal self just a little.

"Hey!"

The Professor however, seemed to take no notice of this. "You used to sleep with a nightlight—"

"Again, Bubbles still does that."

"STOP."

"—and draw me all kinds of wonderful pictures and it won't be long before you're going off to _college_! You won't be my three little girls anymore!"

Blossom leaned over and patted her father's arm. "We'll always be your girls, Professor, so you don't have to worry. Right girls?"

Bubbles smiled brightly from her spot in the backseat. "Of course we will!"

"_Right, Buttercup_?"

"Yeah, yeah. 'Course we will," Buttercup muttered, making a point to look anywhere but at the sniffling Professor or Blossom's hard gaze.

Satisfied with that answer—which was probably as good a one as she was going to get—Blossom kissed her father on his cheek and opened her door. "Okay, we'll see you later. Bubbles, don't forget your backpack again."

"I have it!" she grinned, giving her sister a thumbs up before leaning in between the seats and mimicking Blossom's earlier action. "Bye Professor! Have a nice day at work!"

Buttercup mumbled something under her breath before doing the same thing as her sisters. "Yeah, be careful. See you after school."

The girls waved at him from the sidewalk as he drove away. "Love you," they chorused, before turning and walking towards the school.

Blossom sighed and adjusted the strap of her messenger bag. "Should have seen that coming."

"Poor Professor," Bubbles spoke sadly, "what'll happen to him when we _do _leave for college?"

Buttercup shrugged. "He'll get over it," she paused. "…Probably."

"He could retire?"

"You know, I can actually picture him off in the Bahamas somewhere playing golf."

"Huh. Me too. But the real question is, would he even leave Townsville? Would _we _even leave Townsville?" Blossom wondered aloud. "I mean, this place seems to be the epicenter of monster and villain activity, for some strange reason. _Could _we just up and leave when we graduate?"

Buttercup seemed to forget all about her quietness earlier. "Well, he's been working on that barrier…thing. It's supposed to keep out most of the monsters and stuff, right? The police could probably handle the rest of the guys. They're getting old anyway. Villains have to retire sometime too, don't they?"

"Is _there_ a retirement home for bad guys?" Bubbles questioned, tapping her chin in thought. "Like, when a villain gets too old or too tired to fight the bad fight anymore, do they just…pack up and go live in an assisted living home for evil?"

Blossom sighed as they approached the front doors. "But there will always be more. When the older villains retire, new ones will come along. Maybe they'll be worse, maybe they'll be more powerful. What happens when that time comes?"

"You can fly back from Oxford or wherever and help us less intelligent heroes to fight them off?" Buttercup suggested, half sarcastic and half serious. "Well, whatever. We've got at least two more years until that times comes. Unless Miss Genius over here decides to graduate early," she jerked her thumb in Blossom's direction.

The redhead was somewhat flattered. "You know that Oxford is one of my dream colleges?"

Her dark-haired sister opened her mouth, only to shut it again. Then she abruptly turned away. "Whatever. You're really smart, and don't really smart people want to go to fancy, expensive colleges like that?"

"Did you just _compliment me_?" Blossom questioned, bubblegum eyes wide.

Buttercup emitted a strange choking sound.

"Hey guys—I mean, girls! There you are! I've been looking all over for you and—Buttercup? Is that really you? Wow you actually came and _whoa _what are you _wearing_?"

Bubbles was torn from watching the odd but amusing interaction between her two older sisters by the voice of one of their oldest friends, Robin Synder. The brunette was still as pretty as she'd been a couple of days ago, when they'd last seen her. But this time her periwinkle eyes were wide and she was gaping, staring in the general direction of the other dark-haired girl.

"Hi Robin!" Bubbles smiled and waved frantically, trying to signal to the other girl to not say anything more.

But Buttercup had already noticed. "What do you me—" she glanced down at herself and screeched. "What the _hell _is _this_?!"

Bubbles closed her mouth and weakly brought her hands to hide her face. Meanwhile, Buttercup was glaring intently down at the flowing ivory lace blouse she was wearing, as if willing it to burst into flames and disappear from existence forever. Blossom, however, did not seem phased in the least.

"You're the one who put it on," she pointed out, tone deadpan.

By this time, Buttercup's face was very, very red, and she looked ready to explode. Bubbles sighed delicately and decided to straighten things out before they caused a scene. "You've been wearing that ever since you came downstairs for breakfast," she explained. "I guess you weren't paying attention and grabbed it from my things by accident. But you weren't exactly in the best mood this morning so…"

Robin laughed. "Wow Buttercup. You must have really been out of it if you didn't notice you were wearing that."

"_Shut up_," the girl hissed, then her eyes widened in mortification. "Bubbles, Blossom, people are _staring_."

The other three girls glanced around and realized that Buttercup was indeed correct. Her unintentional show of femininity had turned several heads.

"Well, if it's any consolation, I think you look pretty," Blossom commented. "And isn't a simple blouse better than a skirt?"

Buttercup was about to retort when she suddenly panicked and dove into some shrubs nearby. "Don't talk to me! Bushes don't talk!"

Robin glanced around. "What?"

"Buttercup, that's a shrub, not a bush. There is a difference," Blossom said quietly.

"My _blouse_!" Bubbles shrieked, drawing several more curious glances their way.

Buttercup was horrified. "_Shh_!"

Robin held up a hand. "Okay, okay wait. Just…what is going on right now? Why are you in the bushes?"

"_Shrubs_," Blossom corrected in vain.

Bubbles, huffing and trying to forget about the potential damage to one of her favorite blouses, was looking around trying to spot the source of the problem. And she did, near the entrance to the gym. "Oh. Oh it's _him._"

Blossom and Robin followed the blonde's gaze, and the redhead raised a brow before turning back to her sister. "Buttercup, what did I say about running from your problems?"

"I'm not _running_, I'm _hiding. _There's a difference," the bush responded, mimicking Blossom.

Robin nodded in understanding. "I see. Still avoiding Mitch, are we. Hasn't it been like three months already?"

"That's what I've been _trying _to tell her," Blossom groaned. "But she doesn't _listen_."

Bubbles twirled a lock of hair around her finger. "Oh now, come off it Blossom. Breakups aren't ever easy, you know. And she really liked him," she pursed her lips in thought. "And, I never actually heard her say it, but I'm pretty sure she lov—"

"Can we _please _not talk about this right now? Or ever?" the shrub asked urgently. "How about never? That seems like a good one."

They ignored her.

Robin sighed and leaned over. "I know that it's difficult now, but it's better to get it over with. Dancing around your issues isn't going to help, and although it's not exactly something to look forward to, we've all got to face it sometime: the first encounter with the ex after a breakup."

"You don't even have to say hello," Blossom added.

The shrubs were completely silent.

"What are you doing."

The three girls spun around only to come face-to-face with none other than the Rowdyruff Boys. Although 'boys' probably wasn't an accurate term to describe them anymore. They'd all changed—including the girls—and for some reason the name didn't just suit them as much as it had before. Though, after a two hour long debate on the night of their sudden return a couple of months prior, the girls had decided that nothing else really fit them either.

In a rather shocking turn of events, the boys had returned after five years of absence not to destroy anything, but to apparently, make peace. Or something. They hadn't really been a problem, and had even helped in fights a few times. Of course the girls were still suspicious—okay so _maybe not _Bubbles as much as Blossom and Buttercup, but.

Brick, who had spoken, was staring at Blossom with narrowed red eyes. "Why are you giving relationship advice to a plant?"

It was quiet for a minute or so, other than the sounds of teenagers around them chatting and laughing. Then, Bubbles raised a weak hand. "It's um, it's not a plant."

Butch squinted and leaned forward a bit, jaw dropping. "Is that…you, Butterbabe?"

The finger he received in reply from the shrub as an answer confirmed his suspicions.

"Yep," Boomer laughed.

Brick reiterated his earlier question in an even flatter tone. "What the hell are you four doing."

"Becoming one with the plants and trees and Mother Nature," Buttercup snapped. "What the hell does it _look _like we're doing, idiot?"

"You don't get to call me an idiot when you're the one hiding behind a shrub five minutes before the first bell rings."

She growled. "Yeah well, I have a fucking valid reason to be hiding, okay."

Here, Blossom cut in, noticing a good amount of the students still lingering outside headed in the front doors. "Watch your language. But seriously Buttercup, you need to come out now. The bell really is going to ring soon."

"No," was the answer she received in reply. "I will spend the whole day behind these damn things because there is no way in hell that I am coming out and showcasing what I'm wearing to everybody."

Blossom rolled her eyes, but the girl's harsh reply captured Butch's immediate attention at once. His dark green eyes lit up with eagerness and he looked over at her with a leer. "Yeah, come on out sweetheart."

Bubbles sighed lightly and brushed some stray blonde locks behind her ear. "Well, I'd better be going. I don't really want to stick around for the finale guys, sorry."

Boomer's head snapped up at her declaration, and a wide smile lit up his features. "I'll come with you!"

Before they'd made it five feet, Bubbles turned on her heel and called out to her sister. "And don't even think about fighting in that top! It's one of my favorites and I just bought it a few weeks ago!"

Her tone was still sweet, but with a warning edge to it. For some reason, it sent a chill up everyone's spine but Boomer's—who was apparently too entranced by the girl beside him to notice.

Buttercup muttered something under her breath before rising. She brushed some loose green needles off the blouse and scowled at the four remaining faces, two of which were showing varying degrees of shock and surprise which she promptly ignored and instead stepped over the shrubbery. She gave Blossom and Robin one last nod before walking away. As she passed Butch, her fist flew out and she punched him hard in the shoulder. He was still too stunned by what she was wearing to realize what she was doing until it was too late.

Blossom sighed heavily as she and Robin followed after her, and Brick shrugged before taking off as well—all three wanting to avoid being tardy on the first day.

But two very interested pairs of eyes stayed on Buttercup's figure until she disappeared behind the front doors and out of sight, completely unaware of the stares directed her way.

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**end notes: **shrubs don't flip people off, obviously. i wasn't quite sure how to start this off, but this is how it turned out. anyway, basically the point i was trying to get across is that buttercup doesn't really wear, well, what is apparently considered 'girly' stuff. wow butch had like two lines and that's it. he's like half of this story though, so.


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